Noemi followed at a slower pace, boots sticking to oily sand. She nearly turned her ankle on an overturned crate, catching herself with a sharp breath. The wolf paused until she steadied, then pushed on toward a tangle of green fishing net draped over a shape struggling beneath.
Whatever lay trapped was smeared in thick black goo that oozed from a cracked drum nearby. The whimper came again—high, trembling, desperate. Noemi drew closer but still could not tell what the creature was.